


(i like that) you don't play fair

by woodchucks



Series: femslash 365 [1]
Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Boss/Employee Relationship, F/F, Office Sex, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-12 10:09:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18008951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woodchucks/pseuds/woodchucks
Summary: tegan has come up with a way for michaela to prove she's worthy of being back in her good graces. michaela learns about the importance of honesty. connor is nosy. annalise yells.





	(i like that) you don't play fair

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: semi-public sex
> 
> title is from the song "when we" by tank because i can never dance to a song without it getting stuck in my head forever

“Ms. Pratt, am I boring you?”

Annalise’s sharp voice invades the jumble of Michaela’s thoughts. She ducks her head sheepishly, grateful that her skin doesn’t allow her classmates to see her blush. “No, sorry. I- I’m listening.”

The professor launches back into her tirade, leaving Michaela to slump in her chair once again, teeth rattling. Her manicured fingers dig into the meat of her thigh, her teeth threatening to cut straight through her bottom lip.

Connor rolls his chair up to her desk and quirks an eyebrow. “You good? You've been weird all morning." He raises an eyebrow. "Is it Gabriel? You better not have hooked up with him and not told me all about it."

Without turning to face him, Michaela nods and puts a finger to her lips before pointing it at Annalise. Connor stares at her oddly for a long moment and Michaela prays he rolls back to his own desk before the bead of sweat building along her hairline rolls down her face. To her everlasting luck, Annalise calls for him this time. Connor gives her a once over before turning away, and Michaela releases a ragged breath that comes out louder than she means to. This time it’s Laurel who turns from the desk in front of her with a questioning look. Michaela mouths back cramps and shifts in her seat to really sell the lie.

Frankly, she’s shocked she’s gotten away with it as long as she has, can’t believe the rest of the law students and the lawyers moving in and out of the room can’t hear the steady buzz from the tiny device nestled between her legs. It’s all she can hear - or feel for that matter, the tiny rabbit vibrator being surprisingly powerful for its size, making her teeth chatter and sending a jolt of pleasure up her spine every time she rocks forward and pretends to take notes on whatever case Annalise is accusing them all of not working hard enough on today. Her once pristine notebook is filled with scribbled nonsense and she’s worn a whole in the page that’s going to drive her crazy later.

Through the glass walls that make up the offices of Caplan and Gold, Michaela can see into the offices of the lawyers across the hall. Directly across from the former conference room their class has commandeered sits Tegan, in animated conversation with one of the senior partners, an old white guy in a suit Michaela can’t identify by the back of his head. Michaela narrows her eyes in Tegan’s direction, willing the older woman to look her way, wanting to plead her case before she embarrasses herself in front of everyone. Tegan’s eyes flash in her direction, so briefly Michaela isn’t even sure she’s seen it until the vibrator picks up speed and she accidentally lets her pen go flying out of her hand and clattering onto the floor.

Half the class turns to shoot her a look, though gratefully Annalise has moved on to berating Gabriel specifically, and Michaela stammers out a thank you as Laurel hands her the pen with apologetic eyes. But leaning across the desk to reach it has the external prongs from the vibrator pressing directly onto her clit and Michaela has never been so grateful to hear, “Ms. Pratt, a moment?” coming from the doorway. Michaela shoots up from her seat and excuses herself as she darts past Annalise and out the door, following Tegan across the hall at a rapid shuffle and carefully closing the door behind her.

Tegan sits behind the desk and watches Michaela squirm next to the chair for a long moment before, finally, brusquely commanding, “Sit.”

Michaela obeys.

Tegan rakes her eyes up and down Michaela’s form. “You’re still wearing it?”

Michaela narrows her eyes. “Isn’t it obvious?”

Tegan smirks, leaning back in her chair and crossing her ankles. “We’ll have to discuss your tone later, Ms. Pratt, but I’m glad to finally see you’re able to listen.” She leans forward again, elbows on the desk, and gives Michaela a predatory smile that has the younger woman wiggling in her seat. “Tell me, how does it feel?”

The irritability in Michaela’s face melts into arousal and she flicks her tongue out to wet her bottom lip. “Amazing. Awful. It’s driving me crazy.” She leans forward as well, finally able to let out a small moan when the device hits her clit again.

“Good,” Tegan replies simply, watching Michaela subtly grind her hips into the chair with mild interest. “And you followed my orders?”

Michaela nods eagerly, then says on a breath, “Yes.” Before Tegan can tell her to clarify, she adds quickly, “I haven’t come.”

Tegan gives only a single nod of approval and glances at her computer screen. “Two and a half hours. That’s rather impressive. But do you think it’s enough? Have you truly learned your lesson?”

Michaela groans, hands gripping the arms of the chair so hard the blood drains from her knuckles. “Yes. God, yes. No more lying, no more secrets.” When Tegan only looks at her, expressionless, she whimpers, “I promise.” If the lawyer kept this up much longer, Michaela thinks she would have confessed to murders she hadn’t even committed.

A beat passes before Tegan repeats, “Good. I think your punishment has gone on long enough. Well, this part of it anyway.” She reaches into the top drawer of her desk and shows Michaela a tiny black fob with two gold buttons before closing the remote in her hand. “Are you ready?”

“Please,” Michaela whines, not bothering to hide how eager she is, eyes wild and mouth gaping. She slides in her seat, causing her dress to ride up her thighs.

Tegan raises an eyebrow, her fingers flexing as she pushes one of the buttons. “Tell me what you want, Ms. Pratt.”

Michaela groans at the sudden loss of sensation between her legs, desperately grinds forward to try to create some pressure of her own. “I wanna come,” she whines, her hoarse voice barely a whisper. “Please, Ms. Price, I want to come for you.”

Finally, Michaela sees Tegan’s hand twitch, feels the vibrator spring to life and quickly jump to the fastest setting. She doesn’t bother trying to control her face since only Tegan can see her from this angle, but she bites her lip to keep from screaming when the orgasm she’s been on the verge of all morning floods her body, limbs locked and eyes rolling back into her head. She starts to shake as the vibrator holds her in the throes of her climax, and it takes Tegan a bit longer than necessary to finally take pity on her and turn it off. Michaela can only slump in the chair and pant while Tegan watches her smugly from across the desk.

“I want you to remember this, Ms. Pratt. This is what you being honest with me looks like.”

**Author's Note:**

> in part two, we find out the rest of michaela's punishment is buying new chairs for tegan's office because who the hell wants to sit in her wet spot?


End file.
